by Jeremy Hawkes, Sun Devil Media Relations
Life in the trenches isn't always glorious. For offensive linemen, this is the norm. You put your head down, protect your quarterback or pave the way for your running back and move on to the next play. For over 60 plays a game, offensive linemen take a beating and – advanced metrics aside – it's a beating that doesn't show up on the stats sheet or the record books.
But that grind is noticed by the fans, who roar as gaping holes open up. It's noticed by the media pundits, who recognize the serenity of a quarterback in the pocket that knows his guys have got his back. And most importantly, it's noticed by the teammates - the guys in the locker room that see it every day at practice, on film and in the game.
Sun Devil Football has a long history of letting those guys in the locker room vote on the players that will represent the program as team captains each season. Real recognize real, as they say, and who better to choose who best stands for the team than the players themselves.
Consider then, that in 16 of the past 23 seasons, at least one offensive lineman has been elected by a polling of his peers. And most will tell you, there could be no higher praise or greater honor.
"Pure joy."
That's how Kyle Murphy describes the feeling of the moment, taking the field in 1997 for the final time, arms linked with his brothers.
"To be selected as one of the five guys that (your team) wants to represent you in that moment, there is no greater accomplishment than that."
Murphy was named an All-American by three outlets that season (AP, Football News, Sporting News). He was an All-Pac-10 first team selection and largely regarded as one of the premier guards in the nation.
All of that paled in compared to being chosen as a captain by his teammates.
Murphy thinks back fondly on that moment, taking the field at the Sun Bowl for the final time in his career in the Maroon and Gold, hand in hand with Pat Tillman.
"There was a lot of pride. I just felt fortunate." Murphy reflects. "I got to play with these guys, I got to play football, I got to experience things that very few people will ever get to experience."
All of those feelings additionally fell under the umbrella of melancholy over careers coming to an end and the pensive intrigue around that all-encompassing question: "What comes next?"
Ultimately, however, the main thing on Murphy's mind in that moment was playing in the game. He wanted to be sure that he left that contest and his Sun Devil career on a victorious note.
Iowa was a Top-25 team for a majority of the season and could have been primed for something more, with three of its four losses coming by a combined total of eight points.
ASU entered the game also having been ranked in the Top-25 for the majority of the season, earning ranked wins over a storied Miami (Fl.) program, Stanford and Washington State but licking its wounds after a tough loss in Tucson to cap the regular season.
The Hawkeyes were 7.5-point favorites in Vegas, a line driven up by the fact that Sun Devils had lost starting quarterback and freshman All-American Ryan Kealy in that loss to Arizona and would be featuring Steve Campbell behind center in his first career start.
The question mark around the game revolved around whether or not ASU could hang in the trenches against a prominent and physical Big Ten opponent and give its potent trio of tailbacks (Michael Martin, J.R. Redmond and Marlon Farlow) a chance to keep the Devils in the game against one of the most prolific offenses in the country.
The defense handled that last bit with ease, holding Iowa to just 209 total yards of offense.
Murphy and crew handled the rest.
"We wanted to (expletive) run people over," he laughs. "They thought we were soft and just fast, well we were going to run over their face. And that's what we did."
ASU ran 72 plays on offense that day. 61 of those came on the ground.
Fellow team captain Michael Martin ran wild, posting 169 yards and a touchdown in the best game of his career en route to Sun Bowl MVP honors and ASU racked up 268 rushing yards.
The Sun Devils averaged a Pac-10-best 200.0 rushing yards per game in Murphy's senior year, a year removed from a gaudy 234.1 clip. Murphy had the accolades but injuries limited his professional options and he knew he would have to pursue other outlets to continue his career.
He returned to California with his now-wife in 2000, knowing that going home would provide him with the opportunities he would need for professional development.
A short stint with Nextel quickly revealed to Murphy that he wasn't cut out for the sales business. That led him to the field of coaching and education.
He began working with his alma mater at Edison High School in Huntington Beach. He got his bearings set in the coaching realm there, working with the football and girls' basketball programs before taking on a graduate assistant position with the football program at Cal Lutheran University.
Murphy settled on teaching after that period, getting his credentials and returning to the coaching ranks at Edison where he remained with the football and basketball teams until 2010.
While he coached, however, he began his career as special education teacher beginning at his alma mater in 2006. He is now at Pacifica High School in Garden Grove, where he has spent the last eight years in the special education department.
While he always wanted to help kids, Murphy notes that coaching came first for him early in his career and it took losing his position at Edison to open up his admittedly myopic view as a professional educator.
"I was too focused on football," he said. "At Pacifica, I've had the opportunity to co-teach with a bunch of different teachers and that has taught me a lot about being a better teacher."
It all circles back to growth and constantly maturing and learning from previous experiences for Murphy, something he repeatedly calls back on when he thinks of how successful so many members of that 1997 team have gone on to be.
"I realize that at this stage of my life, I'm OK with not coaching."
Maturing to that realization has given Murphy more time with his 10-year-old-daughter, Samantha, and his seven-year-old son, Cooper. It allows his wife of 16 years to continue to excel and grow into her own professional career. It has helped him to become a better mentor for the young men he works with privately as part of his 5as1 Offensive Line training program he co-operates. It has allowed him to become a better educator for a group of kids that need it perhaps more than anyone else.
And Murphy isn't the only player that has grown in his adult life and he credits his former teammates for doing the same in becoming the success stories that they have become as well.
"Who I was at 24 to who I am at 44, while the foundation is the same, I'm not the same person." Murphy notes. "I think that applies to that team as well. Those guys have gone on to grow and change and adapt because it's important to them."
He credits his own growth to being surrounded by exactly that type of person during his time in Tempe. He reminisces of the four tenants that head coach Bruce Snyder expected his teams to abide, forefront among those:
You WILL care about your teammates.
Murphy knows he can pick up his phone at a moment's notice and call any guy from that 1997 squad and they would come running to his aid. The brotherhood instilled among them during their time at Sun Devil Stadium has transcended far beyond life on the football field and when he looks on at the success of so many from that roster, he knows it is genuine.
"That's undeniable. You can't have success unless you have individuals willing to do what is necessary to achieve it," Murphy said. "You can't fake that. The lessons we learned while we were playing, coupled with the characteristics of what we learned as young boys growing up has propelled us to a situation where we are now and so many of us are experiencing success now."
But Murphy always returns to that moment, frozen in time with a hero by his side – a moment that will live forever. He proudly displays an image of the scene taken from within the Tillman Tunnel on his Twitter page.
"When you look at the players that have come through Arizona State, to just be on that wall is humbling," Murphy said. "But also, that's our friend that's no longer with us."
Murphy chokes up at the thoughts and feelings he experiences when he takes in that picture now. He sometimes grapples with whether being immortalized in that image and on the wall in the Tillman Tunnel is something he deserves, but he knows that it is something he will cherish until his final days.
"Until they take that down, I won't ever remove it from my profile," he chuckles. "But ultimately, when I see that image, I feel pride. I feel so fortunate that I got to play at Arizona State."
Life in the trenches isn't always glorious. For offensive linemen, this is the norm. You put your head down, protect your quarterback or pave the way for your running back and move on to the next play. For over 60 plays a game, offensive linemen take a beating and – advanced metrics aside – it's a beating that doesn't show up on the stats sheet or the record books.
But that grind is noticed by the fans, who roar as gaping holes open up. It's noticed by the media pundits, who recognize the serenity of a quarterback in the pocket that knows his guys have got his back. And most importantly, it's noticed by the teammates - the guys in the locker room that see it every day at practice, on film and in the game.
Sun Devil Football has a long history of letting those guys in the locker room vote on the players that will represent the program as team captains each season. Real recognize real, as they say, and who better to choose who best stands for the team than the players themselves.
Consider then, that in 16 of the past 23 seasons, at least one offensive lineman has been elected by a polling of his peers. And most will tell you, there could be no higher praise or greater honor.
"Pure joy."
That's how Kyle Murphy describes the feeling of the moment, taking the field in 1997 for the final time, arms linked with his brothers.
"To be selected as one of the five guys that (your team) wants to represent you in that moment, there is no greater accomplishment than that."
Murphy was named an All-American by three outlets that season (AP, Football News, Sporting News). He was an All-Pac-10 first team selection and largely regarded as one of the premier guards in the nation.
All of that paled in compared to being chosen as a captain by his teammates.
Murphy thinks back fondly on that moment, taking the field at the Sun Bowl for the final time in his career in the Maroon and Gold, hand in hand with Pat Tillman.
"There was a lot of pride. I just felt fortunate." Murphy reflects. "I got to play with these guys, I got to play football, I got to experience things that very few people will ever get to experience."
All of those feelings additionally fell under the umbrella of melancholy over careers coming to an end and the pensive intrigue around that all-encompassing question: "What comes next?"
Ultimately, however, the main thing on Murphy's mind in that moment was playing in the game. He wanted to be sure that he left that contest and his Sun Devil career on a victorious note.
Iowa was a Top-25 team for a majority of the season and could have been primed for something more, with three of its four losses coming by a combined total of eight points.
ASU entered the game also having been ranked in the Top-25 for the majority of the season, earning ranked wins over a storied Miami (Fl.) program, Stanford and Washington State but licking its wounds after a tough loss in Tucson to cap the regular season.
The Hawkeyes were 7.5-point favorites in Vegas, a line driven up by the fact that Sun Devils had lost starting quarterback and freshman All-American Ryan Kealy in that loss to Arizona and would be featuring Steve Campbell behind center in his first career start.
The question mark around the game revolved around whether or not ASU could hang in the trenches against a prominent and physical Big Ten opponent and give its potent trio of tailbacks (Michael Martin, J.R. Redmond and Marlon Farlow) a chance to keep the Devils in the game against one of the most prolific offenses in the country.
The defense handled that last bit with ease, holding Iowa to just 209 total yards of offense.
Murphy and crew handled the rest.
"We wanted to (expletive) run people over," he laughs. "They thought we were soft and just fast, well we were going to run over their face. And that's what we did."
ASU ran 72 plays on offense that day. 61 of those came on the ground.
Fellow team captain Michael Martin ran wild, posting 169 yards and a touchdown in the best game of his career en route to Sun Bowl MVP honors and ASU racked up 268 rushing yards.
The Sun Devils averaged a Pac-10-best 200.0 rushing yards per game in Murphy's senior year, a year removed from a gaudy 234.1 clip. Murphy had the accolades but injuries limited his professional options and he knew he would have to pursue other outlets to continue his career.
He returned to California with his now-wife in 2000, knowing that going home would provide him with the opportunities he would need for professional development.
A short stint with Nextel quickly revealed to Murphy that he wasn't cut out for the sales business. That led him to the field of coaching and education.
He began working with his alma mater at Edison High School in Huntington Beach. He got his bearings set in the coaching realm there, working with the football and girls' basketball programs before taking on a graduate assistant position with the football program at Cal Lutheran University.
Murphy settled on teaching after that period, getting his credentials and returning to the coaching ranks at Edison where he remained with the football and basketball teams until 2010.
While he coached, however, he began his career as special education teacher beginning at his alma mater in 2006. He is now at Pacifica High School in Garden Grove, where he has spent the last eight years in the special education department.
While he always wanted to help kids, Murphy notes that coaching came first for him early in his career and it took losing his position at Edison to open up his admittedly myopic view as a professional educator.
"I was too focused on football," he said. "At Pacifica, I've had the opportunity to co-teach with a bunch of different teachers and that has taught me a lot about being a better teacher."
It all circles back to growth and constantly maturing and learning from previous experiences for Murphy, something he repeatedly calls back on when he thinks of how successful so many members of that 1997 team have gone on to be.
"I realize that at this stage of my life, I'm OK with not coaching."
Maturing to that realization has given Murphy more time with his 10-year-old-daughter, Samantha, and his seven-year-old son, Cooper. It allows his wife of 16 years to continue to excel and grow into her own professional career. It has helped him to become a better mentor for the young men he works with privately as part of his 5as1 Offensive Line training program he co-operates. It has allowed him to become a better educator for a group of kids that need it perhaps more than anyone else.
And Murphy isn't the only player that has grown in his adult life and he credits his former teammates for doing the same in becoming the success stories that they have become as well.
"Who I was at 24 to who I am at 44, while the foundation is the same, I'm not the same person." Murphy notes. "I think that applies to that team as well. Those guys have gone on to grow and change and adapt because it's important to them."
He credits his own growth to being surrounded by exactly that type of person during his time in Tempe. He reminisces of the four tenants that head coach Bruce Snyder expected his teams to abide, forefront among those:
You WILL care about your teammates.
Murphy knows he can pick up his phone at a moment's notice and call any guy from that 1997 squad and they would come running to his aid. The brotherhood instilled among them during their time at Sun Devil Stadium has transcended far beyond life on the football field and when he looks on at the success of so many from that roster, he knows it is genuine.
"That's undeniable. You can't have success unless you have individuals willing to do what is necessary to achieve it," Murphy said. "You can't fake that. The lessons we learned while we were playing, coupled with the characteristics of what we learned as young boys growing up has propelled us to a situation where we are now and so many of us are experiencing success now."
But Murphy always returns to that moment, frozen in time with a hero by his side – a moment that will live forever. He proudly displays an image of the scene taken from within the Tillman Tunnel on his Twitter page.
"When you look at the players that have come through Arizona State, to just be on that wall is humbling," Murphy said. "But also, that's our friend that's no longer with us."
Murphy chokes up at the thoughts and feelings he experiences when he takes in that picture now. He sometimes grapples with whether being immortalized in that image and on the wall in the Tillman Tunnel is something he deserves, but he knows that it is something he will cherish until his final days.
"Until they take that down, I won't ever remove it from my profile," he chuckles. "But ultimately, when I see that image, I feel pride. I feel so fortunate that I got to play at Arizona State."